It was now December. There wasn't much time left in 2003, but for game sales, this was one of the most critical periods—
Because Christmas was just around the corner.
Game companies everywhere began going all-in on promoting their products, desperately hyping up how amazing their games were. Naturally, Gamestar Electronic Entertainment was no exception and joined the advertising frenzy.
However, while other companies focused on promoting flashy graphics and backed their ads with intense, dramatic music, plus catchy slogans like "The World's Best," "Top-Tier Graphics," or "Unmatched Sound," Gamestar's approach stood out.
At this time in the world, advertising laws weren't fully developed. If these ads existed in Takayuki's previous life, they probably would've been banned outright.
Among all of them, Gamestar Electronic Entertainment's ads were remarkably unique.
Instead of showing off gameplay footage, their commercials focused on the emotions and perspectives of players.
For example, four friends laughing and having fun while playing Mario Kart together.
Or a father and child carefully studying a strategy guide, cautiously exploring the world of Dragon Quest.
...
It wasn't that Gamestar's graphics or sound were inferior. Rather, they didn't need to rely on shallow methods to advertise their games.
These simple, heartfelt commercials focusing on the player experience were more touching—and Gamestar's sales didn't dip in the slightest. Their dominant position remained rock solid.
Sure enough, when Christmas came, Gamestar's products continued to reign supreme.
Following them were several consoles and games from Surei Electronics.
As for other companies' consoles—there wasn't even competition. Nothing came close.
After Christmas came the New Year.
For Takayuki, the new year wasn't all that different, though recently his mother had been ramping up the pressure to get married. He always laughed it off, and thankfully, his parents were laid-back types. They'd left him alone in Japan at 16 or 17 to go live abroad as a couple. That wasn't something your average family would ever do.
Of course, it helped that the family was fairly well-off—Takayuki never had to worry about starving on his own.
As the clock rang in 2004, a new year had arrived—and it marked Takayuki's eleventh year in this world.
Once New Year's was over, the gaming industry faced new challenges.
Tech was evolving at an explosive pace. Last year, many developers were still fumbling between 2.5D and 3D. But this year, most companies had gone full 3D. Some had even started developing early sandbox games—but those were still very basic, with limited gameplay and empty-feeling open worlds.
Following the New Year was the first-ever World Game Awards, hosted by Kazuo Murakami.
After several rounds of planning, the event had been modeled after the Oscars. Murakami personally invited Takayuki and many of the industry's top developers. It truly felt like an Oscars for games, held in Japan's largest theater.
With Takayuki attending, more than ten of his top-tier developers naturally followed suit. Then came well-known developers from around the globe, and others from the wider gaming industry. The scale was massive and carried an air of prestige.
By now, Kazuo Murakami had matured into a capable host. Calm and composed, he could smoothly carry the ceremony and keep the atmosphere lively.
Since Gamestar Electronic Entertainment was honored as a "Lifetime Achievement Enterprise," none of its first-party games were eligible for the awards. That was basically an unspoken rule—Gamestar's games were so consistently good, if allowed to compete, they'd sweep every category. That would be too discouraging for everyone else.
Without Gamestar in the running, 2003's Game of the Year went to a developer who had created an exclusive title for one of Gamestar's consoles. It was an action-adventure game using the most advanced action mechanics built with the Unreal Engine. It played like a more refined version of Onimusha, sold over 2 million copies, and made the studio a fortune.
Beyond Game of the Year, many other high-quality titles were recognized. Several rivaled even Gamestar's games. The gaming industry was truly thriving—diverse, mature, and finally a real industry.
And among the nominees, one title couldn't be missed: Stardew Valley.
A game made and published by a single developer, Stardew Valley had already sold over 1.5 million copies and was still going strong.
This game proved to all developers that flashy graphics weren't everything. Even a single person, working with a small budget, could still achieve massive success.
The game's broader impact was even more significant than the game itself.
It received a special award created by Murakami: the "Industry Pioneer Award," and also took home the newly established "Best Indie Game" title.
Unfortunately, there was no one present to accept the award.
Since the developer was actually Takayuki's alt account, and he wasn't ready to reveal that, he declined the invitation online—politely saying that it wasn't that he didn't want to attend, but that he just didn't like those kinds of events due to personal reasons. However, he was happy for his game to be included in the nominations.
As for the award and trophy, he told Murakami, "Just hold onto them for me—your company still has my honorary office, right? Just leave them there."
Murakami was a little disappointed. He had hoped he might finally meet his mysterious benefactor. But the guy was just too eccentric—he truly had no desire to show his face.
Even though appearing now would've made him an instant celebrity and opened countless doors, it was his choice—and there was nothing anyone could do about it.